November 14th, 2008 by Bill Keitel

Worthington should be proud of ‘accommodating spirit’
Bill Keitel, Worthington
Worthington Daily Globe – 10/06/2006

I travel quite a bit during the summer, attending art festivals throughout the Midwest. When people ask me where I am from, I explain to them that I am from a community that has one of the largest minority populations in the Midwest (if not the nation). I say this with unabashed pride.

Worthington has absorbed an incredible number of immigrants and refugees over the past three decades. We have had numerous problems over the years but have dealt with them in an open and honest manner. Should that cause us embarrassment? Or should we recognize that most people in our community strive to be accommodating?
Often times, in larger cities the immigrant population becomes invisible by staying within its neighborhood confines. Worthington doesn’t have that social phenomena because we are a smaller community. It is not easy to be anonymous.

I enjoy my walk to work in the morning. One day, not too many years ago, I realized that if you had a hankerin’, you could say hello to my neighbors in six different languages (and I only live two or three blocks from work!) I set about doing just that.

To my Lao friends, I say congratulations on your business enterprise and also to your bright and beautiful children — Sym Baidee (hello)! I always enjoy your New Year’s celebration and appreciate being invited. While crossing the Lake Okabena “fishing grade” I often say “duk behet pah” (How’s fishing?) They laugh — they are much better learning English than I am learning Lao.

My Vietnamese friends can expect to hear a “djow go” or a “djowbye” from me as they pass. They, too, are fully assimilated and needn’t hear my feeble attempts at their language, but appreciate my acknowledgement and interest in them.

I stop by to see my Guatemalan friends, I play slide guitar, they play a handmade marimba built by their uncle. Our “musica tropicale” is a bit sloppy and not too precise, but we have fun. I will stop by again, and we will get better.
My Sudanese friends fleeing from Akobo and Malakahl — (white and Blue Nile region) have endured a decade of incredible hardship in Minnesota. Their eldest child, an honor student and perhaps the next Barack Obama, is a great source of pride. They laugh at me when I say “Beh too’ neigh yat-jel” (let’s stick together).
We stumble when trying to understand each other. I find it important to be able to say “I don’t understand, tell me” again and again. We laugh, comfortable in friendship.

Many have asked to explain a particular word in English. I find it important to do the same with them. I say “I don’t understand tell me again” is how to speak Amharic language.

My immigrant and refugee friends mean a great deal to me. I watch them as they strive, as they achieve, as they occasionally fail. Because of their persistence, I think more of them, not less.

Certainly as a community, we have our faults and our shortcomings. However, we most often continue to address these concerns and strive to grow in a manner with which we should be proud. We are a smart, rich, and adaptable community that can afford to extend our friendships.

Worthington has many, many claims to fame. I believe that our most lasting and important claim will be the accommodating spirit that we have shown our new friends.

November 11th, 2008 by Bill Keitel

Its a summer evening and I walk with my Uncle, (an Archaeologist) from Southern Illinois. We walk along the streets of my little town in search of exercise and an evening stroll.

Our first stop is at Ban Lao Foods and we say Symbaidee (hello) to our Laotian friend Siam. She’s tending the store this evening (they are open 8 to 12 hours each day). We take the time to examine the various bags of rice that are available this week. Her husband makes 300 mile/ bi-weekly trips to restock the pallets of rice at his store. We aren’t in the market for 50 lbs bags of rice, but we admire the artwork on the bags and value her friendship. I often stop by the Lao Coffee and my wife buys an assortment of others items that I rarely appreciate. Their friendship is the value.

As we progress along the street, it has the look & feel of a world market. Decades ago the city planners placed street benches to allow for comfortable seating arrangements along the streets. This was done in hopes of stemming the outflow of business to the “MALL”. As in every small town in the middle west…its the de-evolution of the concrete jungle, people headed to the “new guys in town, The Mall!”

At long last! The street benches are finally being used, the first one by Ethiopians, the 2nd bench by Sudanese, the 3rd by Guatemalans, the 4th by an assortment of Hispanics. Those not being able to sit on the benches are laying on the ground. Its a warm summer evening and everybody is outside trying to stay comfortable. We find it an incredible,vibrant & eclectic mix of new world emigration.

However, it’s not that simple…..we live 50 miles from Lake Wobegone and this sort of casual “sprawling on the main” doesn’t illicit comfortable vibes from long time residents.

It takes concerted efforts on everybody’s part to understand the nature of what emigration is all about. Laying in front of us are the people that are continuing to buoy our real estate values, buy our cars, shop in our grocery stores and continue to make the tenuous local economy remain somewhat stable. We are historically a little railroad town. Many of the houses are suited for first time home buyers with limited income. Its a perfect match & demographically, this is exactly what we need!

We stop and see Rudolfo and his Music Store /turned fashion beautique. It has been a few years in finding his niche’. Rest assured, he can find it on his own, without the help of Wall Street analysts. His store started out with ” lower end” musical instruments and has progressed to the latest Mexican fashion statements. His wife, Grandmother and children share in this amazing enterprise. They will succeed, with or without our sometimes…..cynical eye. Hmmmmm? Crocodile boots? Who would be interested?

I suspect I’m not innocent of miscalculation or prejudice. I try my darnest to see all sides….and error in accommodation. I’m aware of the burdens that immigration brings to a small town. I’ve had the good fortune to be friends with everyone from the Mayor, to undercover drug enforcement people to the marginals folks trying to survive using false passports and people not playing by our prescribed rules.

The account that you will receive will be from an untrained observer, a person with an incomplete college education, a person that has founded his daily life on the trust and friendship of these new emigrants. I draw from the strength and past associations of far more eloquent friends that have long ago moved on or have tragically passed, with this…..I honor their passing.

Can I tell you about my first friends of 25 years ago? My wife took them for their 1st day of school….it was burdensome for the teachers to discern the difference in their names…..tSuun and Soom.

They lived across the street from us and we all shared, without apprehension. I recall a time when it was explained to us that their Grandmother would “enjoy” our pet toad in other ways. This revelation allowed us to start to understand the curious adventure on which our community was embarked.

Immigration is never easy, the American Dream is never a clean a calculated script. People never leave their homeland because things are dandy! They have been thrust out of their nest and hopefully into an environment that will allow them to survive and prosper.

As I glance back, I see those same young Lao children buying cars, buying homes, having babies, becoming quite responsible citizens. I share in their success, I’m proud of their accomplishments.

What causes me to stay in an overly conservative community of 10,000, with limited growth potential? It’s a question that my wife and I have continued to ponder over the decades. Our engagement with an emerging class of America, the emigrants. Immigration, this is not a process that is clean and void of grit. It is a process of generational success. The parents scrape by., …the kids often succeed.

We attended a graduation of an immigrant family that had since moved to another side of town. We didn’t know whether they would be accepted on that edge of town? Our arrival at the party confirmed our hopes and apprehensions, an elderly neighbor lady attended the graduation party in her polyesther house coat. Lending credence to the accommodating spirit of a small town.

Another graduation party the following year added further dimension to our ego-centric understanding. The Lao Family had reason to be proud, a prosperous business, the largest Asian grocery store in perhaps all of Minnesota. The smartest and brightest kids, the middle child received an above 4.0 grade average! At her graduation party we had the opportunity to meet the extended family.

Her uncle was also an achiever, we visited at length. After fleeing Laos he opened a store Thailand and contines to pursue business in the midwest and throughout the world. This strikes me as curious…….I always thought that the “American Dream” was the end of the story. He made me realize that there is business to be had in Brazil, Tawian and a few other assorted countries. He also noted that Uruguay was not one of them! He felt it was far to corrupt. Immigrants pursuing the dream. I am starting to realize that the dream doesn’t end on these hallowed shores anymore. Our new immigrant & U.S. Citizen friends are far more adept at negotiating inter country trade.

They have been living amongst and betwixt numerous cultures all their lives, adaptability is the key. They will be an incredible asset to this nation as we move forward.

September 14th, 2008 by Bill Keitel

As I select the most scenic path to walk a favored dignitary to her fancy bed and breakfast hotel….

The pathway along our lake is as beautiful as any lake in Minnesota. The sun is setting, the wind has just died down, the geese are flying overhead, and the bluebirds might appear at any moment. Its either a Maxfield Parrish moment or rapture is nearing.

Alas, I’ve run face to face with another person that I can’t seem to avoid. She is ablaze in her fanciful Ethiopian garb…piercing eyes and  full flowing head wrap. I haven’t taken the time to explain to my dignitary friend about our community and its incredible immigrant population. Instead, she’ll understand it forthwith.

As we approach our Ethiopian friend , she is sitting on a park bench, seemingly quite distressed and she is arguing with a non-exisitant listener. Immigration on its basic level is so simple and so easy to appreciate. One never considers bringing mental illness into the picture. I try (to no avail) to divert my friends attention, as she has only been an honored guest in our community for less than 2 hours. Twenty feet away stands my other friend from Ethiopia and we are directly in her flight path and she is rambling with great, great fervor. There is no avoiding this encounter and we lose our train of thought. I try to say “hello” in two or three different African languages of that region……..to no avail, it only makes her madder….she is incensed and she takes off her shoe and shakes it at us .. five feet from my nose……..crimney….all I wanted was to impress this dignitary and go about our business.

This is also a rare encounter and glimpse into small towns and the emigrant experience that is occurring throughout the U.S. It is neither simple, clean or tidy. It takes work and effort to appreciate.

My dignitary friend winds up at her appointed bed and breakfast, it is the original homestead of the Dayton family, the Dayton’s that brought the department store & Target to the U.S.A. I breathe a sigh of relief when I bid her good night at the door way.

As I walk home I meet other friends that are from Guatemala, Laos, Mexico, and the Sudan. It might not seem like a big deal……..but I’m only 4 blocks from my house.

Many small towns in the Mid West have seen the out migration of their children to the urban centers. We are no exception. In recent years, our salvation has been the continued immigration of people from far flung corners of the earth. They have filled our vacant store fronts, they have bought our cars from the local dealerships. They have purchased homes….homes that would have perhaps gone vacant. They filled our schools with a new abundance of children. They have brought with them a penchant for their own interests. They are also interested in purchasing items that are indigenous to their own countries.

Store fronts reveal a world market.   Not a preplanned “World Market” experience in some famous shopping mall.  A world market brought to you by immigrants, immigrants from perhaps 9 to 14 different distinct regions in the world.  They are not completely sanititized to the sensibilities of old residents of this community.  They are true to their native lands and customs.  Wild alligators boots from Mexico, Marimbas from Guatemala….hacked from local tree branches and strung in a lattice/ladder effect to create and incredible folk art artifact. Fanciful clothes that are perhaps used in the Quincenero celebrations.  fifty different types of rice and as many mushrooms and fungi to complement.   This small main street is slowly becoming a world marketplace, inspite of all our efforts to understand and assist…..it is creating itself.  A small microcosm of assorted emerging nations.

These are the occurrences that spark my curiosity, these are the people that cause me to continue to return to this community……when most of my own business is done far beyond its reaches of the city limits.